


Touch me (take me to that other place)

by aron_kristina



Category: Leverage
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-10-27
Updated: 2010-10-27
Packaged: 2017-10-12 22:15:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/129703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aron_kristina/pseuds/aron_kristina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Parker doesn't like being touched</p>
            </blockquote>





	Touch me (take me to that other place)

She knows they all know where she lives now, but she's still not prepared for Eliot sitting cross-legged on her floor when she gets in. He hasn't noticed her, eyes on the door even though he probably knows she won't come in that way. She jumps down onto the floor, making a soft noise, to let Eliot know she's here, or maybe not, maybe she's just too tired to be quiet in her own home. Eliot doesn't move but she knows he heard her. It's that subtle way his shoulders tense, as if he's not quite sure it's her. Maybe he isn't, she doesn't know if his freaky powers can tell who has entered a room, maybe she smells like Parker. It's probably a very distinctive smell.

 

She walks up to him and sits down on the floor, not really close to him but not really far away either. She picked up a lock on the way and she fiddles aimlessly with it, picking it and locking it, not very tense but not relaxed either.

 

It's not like she's really got a lot of issues, either. Not like Sophie thinks. Sophie thinks not being able to grift is a personality defect, something she should work on, something she suffers from, and she doesn't. She can, if she needs to, and she does, but she doesn't have to like it. She doesn't have to like interacting with people, and it's not a problem that she doesn't like it, because she can still do it. She doesn't need a babysitter, so why is Eliot here? Stupid people.

 

"Stupid people," she mutters. Eliot doesn't say anything, just looks over at her. "Stupid people and their stupid...hands."

 

She picks the lock a couple of times more before getting restless and throwing it away. It was a stupid lock, and she's got more of them somewhere.

 

"Parker..." Eliot says, and she turns away from him deliberately.

 

"You're stupid," she says, and maybe she sounds like a five year old, but she doesn't care. She just wants to, no, she doesn't actually know what she wants. She wanted not to have that guy touch her, but she realizes that it was necessary, and she didn't stab him with a fork, but now she doesn't know what she wants anymore. It's like he took something from her, just by being there with his grabby hands. She doesn't like grabby hands. That's why she likes Eliot, and Nate and Hardison, and Sophie too. They don't have grabby hands.

 

"Parker", Eliot tries again.

 

"No!" she says. He made her do this, they did, and she doesn't have to listen to him. He's a guy, and all guys have grabby hands, and she doesn't...

 

A padlock lands before her on the floor. The sound makes her jump a bit, but she ignores that slip, it's her home and she can jump in it if she wants to. It's an old lock, and it looks like someone's been beating it; it's crooked. It will probably have all kinds of faults in the mechanism, faults that will make it harder to crack, but not impossible, never impossible. She picks it up and takes out one of her hairpins to start working on it. It takes 90 seconds, one of the things inside the thing had been bent, and figuring out exactly how to flick your wrist was the trick. She locks it again and starts over.

 

"Now will you listen?" Eliot says. She hums in reply. "If you hate it so much, just tell them no." She looks up at him with big eyes.

 

"But then the con won't work", she says. He sighs, and she goes back to the lock.

 

"Look, it's...it's not worth having you spaz out about it, ok?"

 

"I'm not spazzing, you're spazzing", she says, and yes, time down to 20 seconds.

 

"You were hyperventilating", Eliot points out, and really, why is he here?

 

"Why are you here?"

 

"Thought I'd make sure you were ok", he says.

 

"I'm ok." She pokes the lock thoughtfully. "Why wouldn't I be?"

 

"I don't know. Why wouldn't you?" he says, and that's just psychology crap, like all the people trying to pick her brain apart. She doesn't like it.

 

"I asked first", she says.

 

"Because you won't talk about it", he says, and sighs.

 

"Talk about what?" she asks, honestly curious.

 

"I've read your files. We've all read your files", he says. She shakes her head.

 

"No", she says, "nothing but lies."

 

"But", he says, and she shakes her head more violently.

 

"Uh huh, nothing there." He sighs again.

 

"Ok, yeah, nothing there", he agrees, and she can finally breathe easier again. She turns to him.

 

"I want cake. Do you want cake?" she asks. He shakes his head, but smiles.

 

"What kind of cake?"

 

"What kind can you make? Maybe something with chocolate. If we go back to Nate's place we can have cake with the others." She's smiling now, and feeling happy. Cake puts her in a good mood.

 

"We need to hit the store first, but yeah, let's go", he says, and reaches out to pat her on the head. She freezes, almost imperceptibly, but he changes the motion to look like a weird muscle spasm instead, and they head out. She uses the front door, which is an almost new experience, and not all bad, she thinks. Not with Eliot there by her side, ready to make cake for her.

 

In the store he acts like a shield for her, making sure no one comes close enough to touch, and he buys the makings of dinner too. When Nate and Sophie show up at Nate's apartment she's sitting on the kitchen table, Eliot at the stove and Hardison poking a computer, she feels like herself again. Like she'd do anything for this family, no matter what.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the femme_fic 2010 mutlifandom ficathon at LJ.  
> Thanks to C for the beta. Title from "Beautiful day" by U2. Feedback and concrit is encouraged and loved.


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